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Chapter XIV - Green Sky

Nighttime in Sao Paolo in the middle of August was nearly as blazing-hot as daytime, and Arlen was glad for his tiger heritage's good adaptation to tropical heat, especially because he'd been lying prone on a rooftop, sighting through a scoped rifle at the tinted windows of the Gran Sao Paolo for four hours now, hunting with a predator's eyes for his black canine prey.

"Hour four, still no joy," he whispered into the mic. The voice amplifier built into its software would send the words clear as day to his commander, Captain Buck, who was in a similar position on another building, so that they could look through the entire building for their prey.

"Any word from intel? This staring is getting us nowhere, over."

Buck's voice came through the mic in response, sounding grouchy but not uncomfortable, even though Arlen knew the buck had to be half-dying in this heat and wet.

Too stubborn to show discomfort, heh. That's my Captain for ya.

"Keep up the grousing, kitty, it'll make the target show up quicker I'm sure. Over."

Arlen grinned and checked his scope again, scanning the building floor by floor from his hidey-hole. Still no sign of the black hound. Possible he was in one of the interior rooms that looked into the courtyard, but until they knew where to go looking, entering the hotel would be suicide. Too much security, too much chance of getting cornered by local cops for being heavily armed mercenaries running around a hotel looking to do violence.

Taking on another mercenary company would be doable, the tiger figured. Getting in a war with the authorities of Brazil wouldn't be.

A fly buzzed its way onto the pad of his nose. Exercising his heavily-ingrained sniper's discipline, Arlen ignored the buzzing thing as long as he could, right up until the idiot creature flew up and bounced off his eye, leading the tiger to slip down below the lip of the roof and swat at the insect in annoyance.

Just as the thing was sailing off to cleaner pastures, Buck's voice crackled through the radio again.

"Just heard from Tamra. She's broken into their reservations database. We got lucky and its connected to the web for some idiot reason. Should have an idea in ten or less, over."

Arlen popped back up, resting his PSG-1 on the lip of the rooftop, and went back to concentrated scanning, all his focus on the job now and not on the buzzing insects or little annoyances.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, Buck came back over the radio.

"Suite 4210. Its on your side. Will regroup with you in three hours. We go in after the sun's down, ziplines only, over."

Arlen grunted and shook his head, as he slid backwards so that he could crawl along the gravel-covered roof of his perch and stay out of sight. The tiger had to move positions to get a better line on that area of the hotel, based on what he'd read of the floor schematics.

"Understood. Regroup in three hours, sundown entry, zips. Out."

Tamra chewed on her clawtips as she sat with her laptop, tapping away with the other paw and going through the Gran Sao Paolo's records for anything that seemed out of place. She knew it was likely a waste of time given her total lack of context on the names listed as guests.

The calico cat shifted in her wheelchair, closing the laptop for a bit so she could stretch and not risk being noticed, her arms going up over her head and her chest pushing forward as she yawned and purred into it, eyes closed.

A voice, so soft she could barely hear it, scratched something out, making her jump and stare.

"Pretty lady...But those don't do me any good..."

He was smiling at her. Smiling!

Tamra bolted up out of the wheelchair, and had no time to regret the sudden wave of dizziness, as she rushed to Sato's bedside.

The silver wolf looked like hell. Pale, face slightly sunken and bruised-looking, but his bright eyes were open! She laughed, and reached out a paw to touch his cheek, which he feebly batted at while smiling back.

"Holy shit, I thought you were never going to wake up, you lazy ass."

"I must say, for a while, I thought the same." His words were slow, sluggish, tired-sounding, but happy.

"Where is my tiger?"

Tamra grinned broadly and waved a paw towards the window.

"Out and about. He got bored while you were asleep and went out looking for easy tail." Tamra stuck out her tongue mischeviously, so happy he was awake it was making her hyper.

Sato laughed, weakly, and rolled his eyes, though it took more effort than he liked.

"Then I will just have to get well soon, so he does not stray." Of course he knew she was kidding. In the years they were together, the tiger had never strayed. At least, not without the wolf's prompting and permission. Sato smiled, remembering the surprise on his tiger's face that first time, a year after they got together, when he'd actually helped Arlen get the girl by wing-manning her friends.

And to think, the tiger was reluctant to be called another man's boyfriend, after years of asking his permission before sleeping with women.

He tried to talk more then, but felt his eyes sliding shut.

Who knew being unconscious could be so tiring...

Buck pulled the ear bud out when Tamra's voice shouted the good news in her high-pitched 'excited voice.' He grimaced and glowered at it, as if she could see his grumpy face through it.

Once the squawking of the earpiece stopped, he put it back in, and spoke in a hard, quiet tone.

"Rein it in, O'Keef. About busted my ear drum. Thank you for the good news."

She laughed, crystal-like, and continued at a breakneck pace.

"He's asleep now, was only up for a few minutes. Let me talk to Arlen?"

"Not a chance. His mind won't be in the job. You can tell him when we get back to you, got it?"

The cat huffed into the headset.

"That's cold, boss-man."

"That's my job, kitty cat. Going radio-silent for a bit, got to plan the op."

Tamra snorted at him. He could pretty much see her pout and just shook his head in bemusement.

"You just don't want to listen to my happy jabbering, you sour old man."

The stag switched off that band of the radio.

Tasha was frustrated. Very frustrated. Not the 'Simon Gecko has screwed me over' kind of frustrated. The 'horny and unfilfilled' kind.

They'd slept the night together in the plush hotel bed, his arms wrapped around her back and muzzle resting against her shoulder and neck, her fluffy tail draped over his side, and it had been the best half-night of sleep she'd had since arriving in Sao Paolo.

Unfortunately, while the comfily chubby wolf had slept, his massive shaft had gotten erect again and ended up between her thighs, resting lengthwise against her groin in a way that excited and aggravated her to no end.

With no condom that would fit him, she couldn't very well slip it on and ride him to satisfaction. So, she'd tried to give herself some relief with her paws, to her chagrin finding that something was off. She couldn't reach the orgasm she was seeking, despite being sopping wet and having jammed three fingers into herself for what felt like hours.

It almost put her to tears, lying there stroking her breast and fingering herself, rubbing her clit with a finger.

What the hell's wrong with me?

Every time she got near the precipice, she saw Simon Gecko's laughing face flash through her head, or felt the touch of that damn black dog.

This is bad. Rape trauma, maybe? I don't feel that traumatized right now...

Half an hour into her frustrating masturbation, she gave up with a huff, a tear of annoyance and frustration rolling down her muzzle as she brought a sodden paw up to her muzzle, looking it over accusingly.

Behind her, the wolf shifted, bumping his shaft against the back of her legs. His arm around her tightened, and he made a sleepy sound as he nuzzled and licked her ear.

"Something wrong, Tosh?"

She flicked an ear at the new nickname, uncertain whether her annoyance was based on the nickname or her lack of relief.

"No, go back to sleep, Tris."

Now it was his turn to flick an ear and think. His half-awake mind could easily interpret the scent he was catching, something his fully-awake mind might have missed under a storm of thinking too much. Big arms wrapped around her, and she found herself being rolled over, narrowing her eyes as her mostly-virgin lover rolled her onto her back and pulled the blankets aside enough to see what was going on down below.

He was awake enough at that point to blush and stare at her groin and not her face. The puffy pink lips pouted at him, wet and yearning, and despite his uncertainty he leaned down and gave them a lick, pausing to think about the taste.

Tasha gave a panting noise, and pushed on his shoulder.

"S-sore...Been having trouble..." She trailed off in annoyed embarrassment, as he peered up her body at her, between her firm little peaks.

"Can I...Um...I don't really know how to do this...Uh. No instruction manual?" He gave a sheepish grin, and a shrug, as he licked her again, giving her another shudder of unfulfilled arousal.

"My apology for um...Being selfish last night?"

The vixen groaned and grabbed the other pillow, putting it over her face so she could thump on it with her fist. Taking it as permission, Tristan kept lapping at her, slavering over her groin everywhere he could reach, going off only what he'd seen in porn or read on the internet.

Relenting to the inevitable unsatisfying oral sex, she bent her knees, and spread her footpaws apart to give him more room, as she moved the pillow behind her head and sat up just a bit to look down at him.

"Don't be disappointed if it...Mm...Doesn't work out right now. I'm...Er...Having a tough time today."

He looked up at her, and gave an earnest nod, tongue still lapping at juices that were starting to make his snout and lips glisten.

"Just tell me um...What you like?"

The vixen sighed and nodded, before getting a half smile and ruffling his already-rumpled headfur.

"More like that for a bit, I think. Use your fingers to spread my lips open and be careful with the clitoris, it gets oversensitive if you focus on it too much."

She kept a calm tone, despite the burning heat in her loins, her tunnel shivering and giving more wetness as he carefully spread her open and slipped a finger gingerly inside, feeling around curiously as he did.

This is going to be like getting eaten out by a gynecologist.

Stan looked up at her, and curled his finger upwards, having read about the g-spot. Unfortunately he had no clue what to feel for, and she wriggled ticklishly as he did it.

"Good idea, but...Further back. Mmf..."

Tasha bit her lip as the finger found what it was looking for, swept past it unknowingly, and then went right over it again.

"To the left. Too far. Mmf...R-right. Ahh. Right there."

The vixen flopped her head back, paws going to her petite bust to knead at it as she panted softly. The frustration was going away, at least for now, as a heavy sensation radiated from her innermost place. She knew, though, that it wasn't going to go farther, as she stiffened while seeing a flash in her minds-eye of Simon's smirking face, a memory from her unwanted orgasm that night.

Tristan slowed his licking, then swirled his tongue over her clit, which made her shiver and whimper in frustration, as he rested his muzzle against her mound and slid a second finger into her, flexing his jaw by opening and shutting his mouth.

"Getting...Mf...Tired?"

He nodded a little, then shrugged.

"Its okay. Gotta get used to using these muscles, heh."

She smiled down at him, as his face dipped again and kept up its lapping, toying with her lips and slithering over her frustrated little nub, his free paw shifting again to keep her spread, as her thighs tried to drift closed on instinct.

"Its...Its okay to stop. Wh-whenever you want to."

Tristan didn't look up this time, smirking against her, she could feel the movement of his muzzle indicating it, and sucked directly on the red-fleshed little bundle of nerves in a way that had her arching and wiggling in sensitivity, so close to orgasm she could almost reach out and touch it.

Then, that face again, and a whiff she could have sworn was that black dog's breath, and she was flattening from the arch, wincing at the memory, her fingertips clenching into her nipples trying to distract herself.

Her wolf looked up again, raising his eyebrows, and lifting his damp muzzle from her as his fingers kept up their work.

"Was that...?"

She shook her head, after a moment of considering lying, and sniffled, before covering her eyes with a paw in shame. The fingers down below slowed themselves, and he asked a question that more or less emptied her mind for a second in surprise.

"Its okay...You were raped. This is normal. Just try to relax. I'm having fun."

Fun? ...Where the hell did he get to be so understanding? He's related to that psycho, and he's so...Fucking nice!

The wolf had lowered his head again, and made a murring sound as he nuzzled her nether lips like he'd nuzzled her ears earlier that night. Affection, not lust, she was pretty sure.

Then, he spread her thighs out again, glanced up at her, and slid his tongue inside her body. When she arched instinctively, his free paw slid further down, scraping a dulled clawtip across her puckered entrance.

Tasha gasped out loud, and shook, her inner muscles spasming for a moment as her eyes went wide. The wolf's eyes were visible just over the top of her soft fuzzy mound, and they narrowed and turned up a bit at the edges in a smile of calculation and victory.

When the girl-juice slicked finger slid into her, it went in to the second knuckle almost effortlessly. Equally effortlessly but far more explosively, she cried out, yipping loud enough they could almost be heard through the walls, as her whole lower body felt like it was exploding, a tornado of orgasm boiling through her frustrated body as her ass clenched down on that finger like a vice.

She saw stars bursting for a second, and blinked, her pussy spasming all over his tongue, juices coating his chin and lips as he sucked on her clit, flicking his tongue tip across it and setting off a whole second set of clenching, yipping pleasure spasms that had her arching up so far he thought he heard her back pop.

Finally, the vixen's body started to relax, and her vision blurred, as she nestled back into the pillows and mattress beneath her, stunned by the intensity of her release. Stan had stopped licking, swallowing to clear his mouth, and rested his chin on her mound to give her a very soppy grin.

"Thought that might work...You okay?"

She nodded, too blown-away to immediately respond, still shivering in little aftershocks as his finger in her ass tried to pull out, trapped by how her body had landed and the clenching of the muscles there.

"Um...N-need my finger back..."

A few seconds later, he was up next to her, rolling her on her side so he could spoon her again, his chubby body molding to her back. His thick cock rested against the back of her legs, as he pulled her close, and nuzzled into the fur at the side of her neck, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"I think you might have a bit of um...Anal fetish."

She blushed so hotly she was glad her fur was red. Then shivered, realizing what that black dog might have done to her.

"N-not everybody knows what they like till it happens. Don't be mad at yourself, okay? If you let yourself enjoy it, it'll go away on its own after a while if you don't.. Um...Actually enjoy it? At least...In theory..."

She put her paws on his arm, clenching in the fur there, and shivered through a sob. She couldn't tell if it was a sob of pain, a sob of pleasure, or a sob of relief, but she knew it felt good to let it happen. Somewhere, her rational mind told her to let it out for now, while it was irresistible, in hopes it would relieve the stress.

Tristan held her, kissing her neck and cheek, as she shook in his arms.

Outside, some time later, the sun had finally set.

The black tiger was messing with a complicated crossbow-like device, fiddling with its tension settings, as the Captain called in.

"Coming up, hold fire."

"Yeah, gotcha."

Through the roof access stairs, Buck approached, closing the hatch door behind him without a sound. Creeping through the building had been simple, given that its top floors were largely abandoned and its lower floors closed down for the night.

"Got the grapple guns set up?"

Arlen nodded and gestured to the other device with a jerk of his chin.

"So what's the plan? Go in and kill them?"

Buck walked past, swatting Arlen on the shoulder as he went.

"No, dumbass. If we kill them, we lose our chance to dig information out of them. You don't think those other field teams are all in the hotel do you? They're all over the world, gloating, and we're going after them when we're done here."

Arlen frowned a bit, but kept his silence, as he got the tensions where he wanted them.

"Something wrong, Blacktiger?"

He shrugged and checked the telescopic sight, watching the rangefinder inside it calculating distances to the hotel.

"I just...Its nothing."

Buck glanced over his shoulder at the tiger, then looked back at the hotel, bringing binoculars up to his eyes from his belt. Scanning the hotel of course showed nothing new, but it gave him something to do with his eyes while his partner brooded.

"Its never nothing. Spill."

Arlen sighed and set the crossbow down, rubbing both finger-gloved paws over his face before speaking, his tone forceful to cover his embarrassment.

"Sato and I...Uh..."

"Fuck like horny bunnies, yeah, everyone knows kid. Nobody has a problem, I made sure of it."

The tiger stared at his captain's back, blinking.

Wow. Thought he was old-fashioned Army...

Buck kept scanning, checking ranges visually, looking for signs of wind or hostile sentries.

"My little brother came out to my folks when I was sixteen. They beat him black and blue. Long story, but I ended up a mercenary to get away from them, after I was good and sure my brother was out of their grasp. Its why I recruited you, way back when. Good kid, turned backwards by bad folks."

Arlen tilted his head, brows beetled together.

"Sato wants to move in together when we get back and...And he won't be able to work this job any more. I don't know what I'm gonna do. I can't just leave him there alone all the time, running off shooting shit in warzones all over the place..."

Buck turned towards him, lowering the binoculars, and gave him a stare that made Arlen trail off and go quiet.

"Don't assume what he wants. Ask him when he wakes up. I doubt he'll take your career away from you, or want to even. So stop fucking worrying about it, corporal, and get your head in the game. Its not going to be Chutes and Ladders in there."

The tiger grimaced and nodded, knowing Buck was right. Not the time for this, he thought.

The grapples hit the building right on target with a pair of soft 'kahchunk' sounds of barbed arrowheads deploying their stabilization arms after impact. In moments, the two black-clad operatives were sliding down the lines, abandoning their perch to slide downward towards the 30th floor.

Arlen put his legs forward, flexing powerful muscles to ablate the impact, and sure enough in moments he impacted the wall hard enough to make him hiss out a breath.

Damnit, not enough tension on the wheel.

Grimacing, he gave Buck the thumbs-up when the burly stag landed, already digging out the needed climbing tools to make the rest of their ascent.

Arlen grumbled inwardly about none of the nearby buildings being tall enough.

This would have been so much easier if we could have just gone in through the room itself. Fucking climbing...

A minute or so later, they were scaling the hotel's exterior façade, laborious going on the varied glass and concrete structure, especially given that they couldn't afford to be seen.

Being a security guard for one of the top private hospitals in South America was no cakewalk. The security screening process had taken months, the training nearly as long, and for all that, the bear mused as he walked his daily beat of the hospital grounds, they armed him with mace and a flashlight.

The big bear strode along through the parking structure, an easy job given that after dark business tended to taper off. Few comings and goings and even fewer shenanigans to intervene in...Not that the wealthy folks who patronized the hospital would really engage in much of that, he figured.

When a black van pulled into the four-story structure with its lights off, he furrowed his brows and approached, intending to simply ask what was going on. After all, in three years of working here, the worst he'd had to deal with were a few drunken brawls between grieving family members and catching rich wastrel children having sex in a stairwell once.

So, when the truck rolled to a stop in the center of the lane and not in a parking spot, he just scowled in annoyance and sped up his approach to a trot, rather than calling for reinforcements or reporting anything.

A big, muscular lion leaned his well-groomed head out the window, smiled at the security guard, and waved him over. With a scowl of aggravation, he walked up, talking in a hard tone.

"You can't park there, that's a traffic la-"

The otter, having gotten out of the van at the entrance, slid an arm around the bear's neck, and jammed a tanto-tipped combat knife into his back between the ribs.

The bear tried to shout, scream, grab...And couldn't do anything, his limbs not responding, his vision fading to black as blood gushed from his punctured heart.

The slender otter had to fight to ease the much heavier fur to the ground, keeping his grip in case of any last-second struggles, as the lion pulled the van to the elevators. The black panels on the windowless van slid open, disgorging eight individuals in tactical blacks, balaclavas, armed to the teeth with matt black-painted AK-74 submachine guns.

In a hoarse whisper, the otter called out.

"Help me get the corpse moved! Next guard comes through in five!"

A balaclava'd fur trotted over, grabbing the heavy bear's legs, lifting as the otter lifted under the arms.